Grey glanced at his knee, careful to avoid eye contact. “I’m sick of sitting behind this desk, dealing with numbers and words. I didn’t plan to climb today. But the sun was shining, the girl was struggling a bit, and you know the pull. I needed it, Trip. Needed to do something.”
He grimaced at his moronic explanation. Still, it had been more than twelve weeks since his surgery. Countless hours in therapy. By most measures, his fit body could handle anything. So why the hell did a mere nine-foot drop make him feel like an arthritic seventy-year-old man?
“I’d worked on soft-landing jumps in therapy this past week, so I didn’t think it would hurt. Other climbers have been able to do as much at about twelve to sixteen weeks.” He held up his hand to keep Trip from interrupting. “I won’t climb again until I get the green light from Donner. Promise.”
Trip’s facial muscles relaxed into a grin as he reached across the desk and wiggled his pinky finger. “Pinky promise?”
“Asshole.” Grey batted Trip’s hand. “How’d it go with your group?”
“Jon and I led a group of four from Durango—three guys and a chick. They paid cash.” He plunked down a wad of bills on the desk. “Along the route, we crack climbed a chimney. Good day. I think we’ll see them, or at least her and some of her other friends, again.”
“Did they rebook?” Grey gathered the money, counted it, and stuffed it in the cash box.
“No, but she was a flirt. I made sure she got her money’s worth.” Trip scratched at his forearm, the self-satisfied gleam in his eyes causing Grey to chuckle. “Trust me, she’ll be back.”
“If Backtrax is doing double-duty as a personal escort service, make sure I get a cut of whatever you’re raking in,” Grey joked. He tossed the pencil aside and clasped his hands behind his head. “Maybe we should add a ‘Local Lady-killer’ tab on the website and post a big picture of your face. What’s your fee?”
“Triple the going rate of other guys. Of course, you’d have to switch up your tagline. ‘High Altitude Adventures . . . and . . . nooky? Stud services?’ Ah, how about ‘High Altitude Happy Endings’?” Trip playfully rubbed his chin. “Whatever. It all sounds good to me! Too bad Avery won’t let you participate in that side of the business.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m plenty happy with my situation, thanks.” Grey reached into the drawer for a sucker and tossed one to Trip. “Let’s get back to real business.”
With a heavy sigh, Grey scratched the back of his neck, resigned to the fact the pain in his knee would quickly be replaced by a headache. He turned on the computer and printed a draft of an article he planned to submit to some online adventure magazines.
“I wrote an article I need you to proofread. Hopefully someone will pick it up and print it in October.” He picked up the draft article, trying to read through it one more time. As usual, letters jumped around the page like they were playing hopscotch. Grey passed the papers to Trip. As an afterthought, he tossed a red pen at him, too. “You’ll need this.”
Trip folded the pages and stuffed them in his front pocket. “Have you heard from the OS?”
“Not yet, but I’m counting on a big insurance settlement.” Grey repositioned the ice bag. “I just want all this to be over.”
Trip leaned forward again, this time resting his elbows on his knees. He stared at the ground for a moment before meeting Grey’s gaze. “Listen, that ice bag should be a big red flag, Grey. Don’t settle your claims for the bare minimum. There are no guarantees about your recovery. More importantly, there’s no guarantee that laying off Andy Randall will result in a fairy-tale ending with his sister.”
Grey crunched up the last bits of his lollipop before throwing the stick in the trash. Trip wasn’t wrong, but if Grey pressed hard against Andy, that would guarantee the end of everything with Avery. “I hear you. I won’t roll over, but I am going to do whatever I can to avoid hurting her.”
Trip rolled his eyes. Of course, Trip didn’t know squat about love relationships, so Grey shouldn’t expect a different reaction.
“Well, I can see I’m talking to a brick wall, so I may as well put my mouth to better use. Too bad we haven’t booked my stud services yet,” Trip kidded before he cracked his knuckles and stretched out in his chair. “Think you can manage to hobble to Grizzly’s for some brews and a round of pool?” When Grey glanced at his phone, Trip clucked. “Henpecked already? Honestly, Grey, it’s way too soon for you to need permission to go out with me, or anyone else, for that matter.”
“I don’t need permission. It’s just that I’m expecting her to drop by on her way home. With her parents in town, we haven’t seen each other.”
“That’s a good thing. You’ve jumped into this thing with Avery no-holds-barred. A few days apart will give you time to locate your brain and stop daydreaming.”
Grey flung a thick pink eraser at Trip’s head, which Trip caught. “I don’t daydream.”
“Oh yeah, you do. You’ve been sporting a goofy, lovesick face since last Saturday. Hell, you barely paid attention to the Rockies’ game last night.” Trip shook his head, chuckling. “It’s sad, man. Just sad.”
“What’s sad?” Avery arrived on cue, smiling.
Although the back office lacked windows, the space brightened up like a cloudless summer afternoon. Her visit made Grey’s heart skip and prompted a huge smile, which seemed to further goad Trip.
“See what I mean. Just plain sappy.” He turned toward Avery, grinning. “You’re a menace.”
“Jealous I stole your title?” She joked, until her gaze landed on the ice bag covering Grey’s knee. Her expression shifted to concern. “What did you do?”
Before Grey could answer, Trip volunteered, “Took a client bouldering and showed off his own skills instead of spotting her.”
Grey knew Trip hadn’t meant to provoke Avery’s insecurities, but he watched Avery take a step backward at the inference he’d been flirting. “Oh, really? So you ignored all my advice and put that kind of strain on your knee already?”
Why couldn’t anyone understand his urge to conquer the rock? “I just got a little excited out there today. Lesson learned. Can we move on, please?” He lifted the bag from his knee and tossed it to the floor. Glancing at Trip, he jerked his head toward the door in a silent plea for a little privacy. “How about you and I discuss that article later?”
Trip crossed his legs at the ankles, apparently enjoying making Grey squirm. “How ’bout you give me an answer about pool tonight?” When Grey tried and failed to look at Avery without getting busted, Trip slapped his thigh. “I knew it.”
He stood up and, walking in a tight circle, tucked his hands under his armpits and flapped his arms like a chicken. “Bwok, bwok, bwok.”
Then he laughed out loud as he exited the office.
Avery stared after him—arms crossed, head tilted to the left—then shook her head and redirected her attention to Grey. “What was that about?”
“Nothing.” He reached both hands toward her, and she quickly complied with his silent request. He pulled her onto his good leg and kissed her. “You miss me?”
She squirmed a bit, but didn’t deny it. “I want to talk.”
“You mean you’re not here to sexually assault me?” He nuzzled against her neck, but she pushed him away.
“That’s next, so stop distracting me.”
“I wasn’t even trying hard. Let me bring my A-game.” He pushed up her shirt, but she shoved it back down.
She smacked his shoulder. “Seriously, I want to talk about how I might help you drum up more business.”
Grey drew back a bit, wondering what she could possibly do to help. “I don’t want you worrying about my business.”